Precious takes a room.

After a few days above and beyond the call of duty, Precious took a room at the beach. And it's a very good one at that. The back, via patio doors which open onto the sand, looks out over the Pacific and the setting sun. There's a Restaurant next door called, inevitably, The Beachcomber. The front casts it's eyes towards the mountains that you've just cycled over. The room has it's own bath. You are allowed to smoke and the Wifi is free. As an added bonus there's a free oiling service. Possibly, I can't say for sure that there isn't. In short the room has everything you could possibly want.
Availing yourself of the free facilities, to whit, the wifi. You find youself presented with the latest news from, would you believe it, Reno. Reno's residents have been bombarded recently with a number of tremors of ever increasing ferocity. That's a bit odd, you might think, geologically speaking. Normally, you get hit by a big one and then the tremors tail off having moved their load, so to speak. Girls the world over will know what I mean. Anyway, Reno's tremors are enough to dislodge your favourite brand Baked Beans from their Supermarket shelf and that, if I'm honest, is quite enough movement for one year. Excluding the ones caused by the beans. May I remind you that as I write this the Pacific's waves gently reclaim the sand not 20 metres away.
Reno's experiences are reported with a number a number of statistics. Here's just two. Oregon, a gentle morning's cycle away, is the 10th most likely State in the United States to host an Earthquake. California, the State I'm in, is the 2nd most likely. Thrill seekers should head to Alaska, where they can almost guarantee a tremor filled vacation. Remind me, how far away is the Ocean? Also, and I quote, "..there's a 99.7 percent chance that a strong earthquake will strike California in the the next 30 years..". No time like the present, I hear you cry. Looking on the bright side there's a 0.3 percent chance that it won't.
During the last two days, the highlight of most climbs has been passing the sign that says 'You have now left a Tsunami Hazard zone'. This happens whenever you've gone high enough to be able to record the devastation below with your mobile phone. The nearest high ground to this amost perfect Motel is, and I'm guessing, two miles. That's a gentle morning's sprint away. There are signs that help you judge when a Tsunami is on it's way. None, however, so far as I know, can be perceived when you're asleep.
So, on the off chance my sleep is disturbed by a cascade of gate-crashing water, I'm going to take the only option available to me, (I am in California after all), and buy a surfboard.
Sweet dreams everyone.